


I'll Sleep When I'm Dead (or when I litterally pass out in the middle of camp)

by orphan_account



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Everyone is really fucking tired, F/M, It's not first person just the title is, just a small fluffy thing, sibling feels, slight Bellarke, small happy feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-15
Updated: 2015-01-15
Packaged: 2018-03-07 16:09:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3176937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one's been sleeping much, especially Bellamy. Just a little fluff because The Plot Bunny happened, and I was emotionally drained by all the feelings about the rest of s2.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Sleep When I'm Dead (or when I litterally pass out in the middle of camp)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not entirely pleased by how this turned out, but I'm never pleased by my action sequences, so it'll have to do. I'd like to write this from Bellamy's perspective, which I think will turn out much nicer.  
> Orphaned because despite it being my most popular fic, I don't like it..  
> 

Bellamy made it two days before collapsing. Two days after getting what was left of their people, _his_ people, from Mount Weather safely to Camp Jaha, he stumbled, over nothing but mud and sheer exhaustion, to his knees on his way from the rations tables to the medical station, where he was supposed to meet Clarke to discuss what to do now that everything seemed to be settling out.

Bellamy hadn’t slept well in a while. Truthfully, no one had. Especially not after Finn... Well, some pain was better left for nightmares. But Bellamy had slept less than others, and pushed himself farther than others, and he’d flat out refused to close his eyes for the two-and-a-half day excursion that was the rescue mission to Mount Weather.

Clarke had seen it. She’d been keeping a close eye on what was left of her own, especially Bellamy and Raven, knowing that it was only a matter of time before one or all of them broke down. They were holding themselves together with strings of restless nights and thin rations. On top of every single thing that had happened in the short expanse of their life on earth, Clarke was honestly surprised that none of them had just toppled over in the bitter winter wind that had settled in during the last week.

Well, Bellamy did, and Clarke was stepping out Medical, ringing excess moonshine off her hands and swinging her head around to search for her co-leader just in time to see him go down.

For all that she was one of the furthest away, Clarke was the first to reach him.

“Bellamy!” She called out as she dashed over, “Bellamy, what’s wrong?”

Every tired and aching inch of her protested as she hit the ground next to him, on her own knees, reaching for his falling shoulders to steady him.

“Bellamy talk to me,” She demanded, searching his face with all the urgency she could muster.

“‘m so tired,” he mumbled, his words slurring as his head fell forward, too heavy for his own neck.

“Oh Bellamy, I know,” Clarke said, her adrenaline draining from her as she realized he was mostly okay, “I know you’re tired, it’s okay, I’ve got you.”

She held his head up with a hand, lifting one drooping eyelid at a time to check that it was only exhaustion that had put him in this state. Satisfied that sleep would be enough for the time being, Clarke pulled herself back into reality to see that a handful of people hand gathered around, mostly _their_ people, and that they were asking her a dozen things at once.

She took a second to pick through their questions, and silenced them with one waving hand, sacrificing Bellamy’s neck to do so.

“He’s really okay, he doesn’t need to see Mom, he just needs sleep.” She announced, trying to answer the most pertinent questions in one go.

A few of the small crowd dispersed at her words of assurance, mostly adults and those who’d still been holding tools or food. There were still about a dozen people left, and Clarke looked around, searching for Octavia, even as she remembered that the younger Blake had left on a hunting trip early that morning. Clarke sighed and drew one of Bellamy’s arms across her shoulders, she eyed the people still gathered, and saw Jasper start forward. She nodded her thanks as he knelt on Bellamy’s other side, and they stood together, lifting Bellamy between them.

“We’re taking him to his tent, all he really needs is rest.” She said to Jasper, turning to the others, she picked out Monty, “Bring water, and whatever rations they’ll give you.” She and Jasper started to move when she yelled over her shoulder, “Tell them it’s on my orders, don’t sacrifice your own!”

Because the idiots she was trying to keep alive _would_ do something stupid like that, and she could only deal with so many passed out friends in one day.

Once Bellamy was no longer on the ground, the rest of the delinquents cleared out, and she and Jasper had a clear path to the tents. They struggled over, the mud presenting more of a problem than Bellamy’s weight, which, as with everyone, wasn’t what it should be. Clarke realized, however, that Bellamy’s weight was _really_ low. Low enough that she could get him to his tent on her own, even though he had a good foot on her, and was one of the stronger men around the camp. She sighed in frustration and concern, knowing that Bellamy had been giving up too many meals and passing up too much sleep.

As they neared his tent, she adjusted her grip, “Hey Jasper, open the flap for me, then see if you can get more food, go to my mom if you must. I can get him from here.”

Jasper slipped out from under Bellamy’s arm, pausing a moment with his hand at Bellamy’s elbow to check that Clarke was steady.

“Anything else?” He asked, as Clarke passed through the opening.

“If you see her before I do, let Octavia know, and _make sure she knows he’s okay_.” She answered, emphasizing the end, because she didn’t need the girl bursting in and waking Bellamy up.

“You got it,” Jasper replied in his quick, efficient manner, before taking off towards Monty to check on the rations.

Clarke navigated her charge around the tent, and deposited him on his bed with a huff. She did her best to get Bellamy tucked into the thin blanket that was rationed to him, and shook her head, knowing that it wasn’t going to be enough. Through all of this, Bellamy had been unconscious, or near so, but when she straightened up and moved towards the entrance to go for the blanket from her tent, he started to say something, and she leaned closer.

“-love you, O” is what she could make out, and she smiled tiredly.

He thought she was Octavia. The thought almost made her laugh.

“Love you too, Bell,” She replied, unthinkingly, and ran a hand across his forehead to smooth his creased brow.

Monty entered a moment later, as she was trying to leave again. His arms weren’t exactly overflowing with rations, but he’d gotten at least three of the slim packages and two large canteens, so it was better than nothing.

“Jasper’s talking to your mom,” He said in lieu of a greeting, “Miller's keeping things calm.”

“That’s good.” Clarke replied, distracted as she relieved Monty of his burden. “He’s practically unconscious now, and as long as he gets several hours uninterrupted, he should be back to normal.”

She set everything down on Bellamy’s makeshift table. His tent here wasn’t quite as equipped as his old one back at the dropship, but they were all making do.

“He’s probably fine, though he thinks I’m Octavia, so who knows.” Clarke joked as best she could as she and Monty exited the tent.

Monty snorted in response, “If he’s mixing up you and Octavia then I don’t think he’s _fine_ , but whatever you say doc.”

“I’m going to go get him another blanket, otherwise I think what we can do for him is done.” Clarke replied with a shrug, looking a little less haggard out in the bleary winter sunshine. “Thanks for your help.”

“No problem,” He answered, and nodded towards Jasper, who was headed over, “Hey, should Jas just leave everything in there?”

“That’s fine,” Clarke called over her shoulder, already moving towards her tent.

She’d returned with her blanket when she heard running. She whirled around in time to be assaulted by Octavia’s anxious face inches from her own. Clarke stumbled back a step, but the younger girl's hands locked into her jacket sleeves.

“Is he-”

“He’s fine-”

They started talking at the same time, then abruptly stopped. Octavia sucked in a breath, clearly having rushed from the gate the second she returned. Clarke took advantage of Octavia’s temporary breathlessness.

“He’s fine, he just needs a lot of sleep and a few solid meals.” She said, prying Octavia’s hands off of her arms.

“Okay, okay” Octavia was nodding, rambling as she stood there, “One of the guards told me when I came in and I think Jasper was saying it was _o_ _kay_ , but I saw you carrying something in and-”

“Octavia hush,” Clarke chided her gently, “You can go in there, you just need to be calm.”

Octavia nodded, clearly much relieved and more in control.

“Here,” Clarke said, pressing the blanket into her arms, “take this, he thinks it’s you taking care of him anyways.”

Octavia tilted her head questioningly, even as she took the thin cloth from the young medic.

“Last thing he said before falling asleep,” Clarke grinned, “was ‘I love you, O.’ I didn’t have the heart to correct him.”

Octavia laughed a little before ducking into the tent. Clarke finally let herself sag, her energy sapped and her work done. She headed to Medical where she managed to sneak in a few minutes of sleep herself, before her mom got her up to go eat.


End file.
